


Healing

by AnselaJonla



Series: Prompt fills [50]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Reddit Prompt, r/writingprompts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:54:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24378316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnselaJonla/pseuds/AnselaJonla
Summary: A fic written for a prompt on the r/WritingPrompts subreddit:[WP] A new faith healer is in your town. This alone is nothing new. What is new is this is the first one that actually seems to work... and the god they profess has only previously been mentioned in fiction.
Series: Prompt fills [50]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1097823
Kudos: 2





	Healing

The new "healers" are... different, I have to admit. I've certainly never seen anyone _dressed_ like them, or anyone carrying a mace for that matter, outside of conventions. And I get the impression that these maces are not precisely convention-safe.

They're right in the middle of St Peter's Street, the male of the pair standing on one of the black stone benches that run perpendicular to the churchyard wall. He's preaching, his voice echoing off the surrounding buildings. The woman is on the ground, looking far more menacing than someone with such a slight frame should.

People love a spectacle, and this is no exception. A crowd is gathering, Saturday lunchtime shoppers pausing in their to and fro to listen to the words of this stranger. And his words are as strange as his appearance. He's going on and on about some weird god, one who is apparently both merciful and just.

The woman's eyes are scanning the crowd, as if watching for trouble. The man's sermon is going on, his words getting more passionate, more forceful with every sentence.

"And step forward, and be bathed in His mercy! Come hence and be healed!" the man exhorts. People are chuckling, and the crowd ripples as people are nudged and pushed forwards by their disbelieving friends.

Eventually a young woman breaks free of the crowd. Crutches clack on the paving stones and her left leg is raised off the ground, her foot encased in a bulky plastic support boot. I sympathise with the pissed off look on her face. I've been there, those things are _not_ fun to wear.

"Doc says I might never regain enough ankle strength to run again. Can _you_ do better?" she challenges. She limps forwards and sit-collapses on one of the benches, then leans forwards to remove the boot. She peels the tubigrip underneath down to reveal a badly bruised and swollen ankle and foot.

The silent woman steps forward and kneels on the ground in front of the injured one. Placing a glowing hand on the swollen ankle, she mutters something under her breath, too quietly for anyone other than her "patient" to hear.

As everyone watches the swelling goes down and disappears. The leg regains the shape that it should have. Bruising fades to clear skin.

It's an honest to god _miracle_.

"Stendarr's mercy to all who refuse the Daedra and their evils."

I find myself next to the newly-healed woman, pushed there as the crowd surged forwards, all demanding healing for some ailment or another.

" _Damnit_ ," she says. "I'm going to have to put that back on. I don't have my left trainer with me."


End file.
